


What She Deserves

by OverEmotionalFuckery



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood and Violence, F/F, Gen, God Tier, a character god tiers, nondescript blood and violence, possible suicidal ideations, sort of death ?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 02:03:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8232224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverEmotionalFuckery/pseuds/OverEmotionalFuckery
Summary: An idea on Damara reaching god tier.





	

You know her as meek, and you know her as soft, and when she laughs, it sounds like bells and makes you weak in the knees. 

“You sure you don’t want me to teach you to ride? I bet you could shred some sicknasty moves,” you ask as you roll past her. In your distraction, you hit a huge crack in the street and eat dirt.

She giggles as she helps you up off the cement, and you almost fall right down again because of how cute she was. 

“I don’t balance like you. I fall even more than you.” 

Now it’s your turn to laugh. 

The next time you see her, she is meek, but not soft. She is sharp edges of anxiety and fear. She casts distrustful looks at anyone who approaches too quickly or asks too many questions. She doesn’t laugh much anymore. 

“Come on, Damz, just come hang out at my place. No one comes to my planet except Tuna. Plus it’s practically like a maze, no one can find you if you don’t want them to.” You had been trying to get her to hide away for weeks now. Meenah was the only real trouble-maker, but Damara was now unsure around everyone. Sometimes, she even looks at you like you are a threat, and it breaks your heart.

“No, someone would find me. And they would all gossip about how much of a coward I am for running.” She crosses her arms and you want nothing more than to hug her and give her some semblance of physical safety. 

“Man, Meenah’s the only one who really has it out for you, you know? She’s a huge beach - bitch, god damn she’s even got me with them punz - and she likes making other people miserable. No one else is out to get you.” 

She snorts derisively, and it’s the closest to a laugh you’ve heard from her in a long time.

The next time you find her, you barely know her. She is no longer meek and she is far from soft. Her laughter still makes you weak in the knees, but in a very different way. 

“I heard about what happened with Rufioh,” you say without meeting her eyes. 

“ _Here to congratulate me?_ ” she asks in West Beforan. You don’t understand her as well as you would like and you kick yourself for not trying harder to learn her language earlier. 

“That was pretty fucked up. I can’t really blame you, and Horuss was able to make him a sweet robo-body. It’s not like he’s dead.” She seems bored but you keep talking. “What are you gonna do next?”

“ _Find that water bitch Meenah and teach her a lesson._ ” 

You feel your stomach drop down to your feet. You are very familiar with cycles of revenge and how badly they always end. You don’t want her to be hurt any more than she has already been. Underneath that feeling, you know she isn’t the one you need to worry about. 

You find Meenah first, to give her a warning. She doesn’t take you seriously, despite knowing what happened to Rufioh. She is much tougher than him, and won’t be beaten so easily. You leave in a huff - you aren’t Serket and you sure aren’t going to waste your breath like you are. 

But you hang around her planet, knowing it won’t be too long before Damara brings the whole place down. 

You don’t involve yourself in the fight. You stay out of the way. Damara doesn’t need your help and you don’t really think Meenah deserves your help.   
Damara pursues Meenah doggedly, not stopping until the heiress is on the ground, still and bloody. Her telekinesis keeps her moving fast, and you have difficulty keeping up with her, even on your rocket-board. You reach her just as she dropped to the ground, clutching her side. She keeps stumbling towards where Meenah lays, wincing in pain with each step. You could now see she was bleeding heavily, and you captchalogue your board and race to her side. 

“What are you doing here?” she asks in Beforan. There is a bit of blood trailing from the corner of her mouth, but she is smiling. It gives you chills. 

“You’re hurt real bad, Damz. We gotta do something. Some consorts told me about a giant fancy cocoon that will heal you, or make you immortal or some shit, but it’s on your planet. Come on, Damz, let’s go!” You grab her shoulder and she shrugs you off and keeps shuffling forward. 

“If you keep going, you’ll die! I know you gotta get your revenge or whatever, but if we don’t hurry to your planet, you’re gonna die!” 

“Don’t care,” she says quietly. “Gotta give her what she deserves.” 

“What about you?!” She turns and looks at you like you just started vomiting grubs. “What about you? What do you deserve?” 

She turns away from you and keeps walking. You keep up with her and you keep talking. “You deserve to live, Damara. See how serious I am? I’m using your real name.” She almost laughs. “You deserve to live, and you deserve to move past this. If you keep going, she’ll be dead, but so will you.” 

“Good!” She moves forward with renewed vigor. She spits blood out on the ground and doesn’t look at you again. 

“Damara!” You grab her arm and pull her back. She falls hard on her butt and swings out at you with the hand that isn’t clutching her stomach. “If you die now, Meenah will be the one responsible for your death. You will have let her kill you. She would win.” She pauses while struggling to get up, and that gives you a chance to grab her. You uncaptchalogue your rocket-board and wrap your arms around her rib cage, just under her armpits, and drag her on the board with you. She hits you and kicks you and even tries to bite you, but you’re already speeding away from Meenah’s bloody body. 

The two of you start jumping gates to find her planet, and part of you thinks it might have just been faster to fly straight across the incipisphere. Three or four gates in, she stops struggling, and you start worrying. Her weight is heavy against you as she sinks down on the board. 

“No, no no no, you don’t get to rest yet. You don’t want to miss out on this sick ride. I’m doing all these tricks and flips and you’re not allowed to miss it.” You pat her face a little to make sure she’s still awake. A half smile crosses her face and you are relieved for just a moment. 

The next gate puts you at her planet, and thankfully, her cocoon is on the horizon. You push your rocket-board to its limits, and you speed towards it. She sinks a little farther down and you slap her face again and she doesn’t move. 

You dive off the rocket-board as soon as you’re close enough and you drag her inside. You tell her to stay awake, you cry and scream, but she is unresponsive. 

In the middle of the cocoon is a round slab with a big gear on it and you’re crying as you put her on it. You can no longer tell if she’s breathing or not. You kneel next to her and hold her hand and cry and pray. 

Her hand slips away from yours and you look up, scared and confused and hopeful. She is floating, butterflies landing all over her body, hiding every inch of skin, cloth, blood. An ethereal glow surrounds her, glowing brighter by the second, until you have to look away. 

When you are able to look back, her body is descending, looking no more alive than before. You cry, howling as your whole body is wracked with sobs. Were you not fast enough to save her? Does she really not deserve to live? Does she really not deserve a second chance? 

You are so wrapped up in your own sorrow, you almost don’t hear the trollian notification from deep in your sylladex. Of course someone wants your attention now. You try to ignore it, try to give yourself just a few more minutes of solitary grief, but the notifications get more and more insistent. Groaning, you pull out your laptop and wipe your eyes so you can actually read your screen. 

aa: im alive  
aa: im on the battlefield   
aa: i have new clothes somehow ? and wings ?  
aa: im not quite sure what happened but im very alive  
aa: please respond  
aa: did something happen with my cocoon ?   
aa: are you ok ? 

You start crying again but you’re laughing with it. You’re so relieved you feel like you could practically fly off yourself, just from the weight lifted off your heart. You collect yourself just long enough to message her back and tell her you’re heading to the battlefield. You hop on your rocket-board and speed off. 

The next time you see her, you almost don’t recognize her. She is far from meek, or soft, but she smiles so widely at you. She allows you to embrace her. Her face is wet from tears, but she laughs in your ear, and your knees go weak in a way they never have before.


End file.
